Rubix Cube
by Silence Is Not Golden
Summary: Detective Roy Mustang stumbles upon a woman trespassing in his crime scene.An odd relationship blossoms between the pair as he and his team continues to solve bizarre cases,and ends up uncovering something they weren't expecting.  Update:C3 pt1 The Forger
1. C1 part 1 Trespasser

**Disclaimer: Any characters of Fullmetal Alchemist aren't mine. Warning! Some characters will be OOC so if you don't like OOC then do not read this story… Wait don't do that. Just give it a chance. :D This is an AU fic and there will be characters that I just made up on the spot. I'm not even sure people read these side notes I write… :D**

…

"Detective, the body is over here." The policeman's face is pale and queasy. He lifts over the yellow tape to let in the detective in charge of the case.

"Thank you." Detective Roy Mustang sympathetically pats the new officer's back. Roy adjusts the collar of his white dress shirt. The sun is cooking him alive.

His partner, Maes Hughes is already at the scene questioning the owner of the house.

Roy squats down and lifts the plastic covering the body.

"No head. No blood. No mess." He places the covering back down and massages his temples. This is the fifth murder in one month. Every time his team closes in on the perpetrator, somehow the person always manages to elude them.

Hughes walks to his partner with a perplexing look on his face. "The owner, King Bradley said he didn't hear a thing last night. He said he lives alone and he just got back home after a corporate meeting in Vegas. He's not home often. When he woke up the next morning, he found a headless man on his kitchen floor." The men walk inside the house, carefully walking around the broken flower vases and damage tables.

Maes reads his small notepad. "Mr. Bradley said he is an avid collector and several painting was stolen. He locks all his treasures in his basement. Strangely enough, a postcard that has value to the owner but no value to anyone else was also stolen."

The two floored colonial house is surrounded with a white picket fence and tall trees. It is several miles away from other houses so it's in a quiet isolated location.

There isn't a speck of dust, dirt or hair inside of the house. No fingerprints, no trash, no nothing. It's like no one has ever lived in this house. Obviously, this house has been thoroughly cleaned. Bradley must have some house cleaner.

Hughes leads his partner downstairs to the basement.

Roy tries to turn the handle of the door but its lock. "It's stuck." He checks the side of the wooden frame and it hasn't been broken into. "Is there another door to the basement?

"I don't think so. Perhaps there's something Bradley isn't telling us. Let me double check." Maes turns and goes outside for another interview with the owner.

In the corner of Roy's eyes he notices the carpet at the bottom of the staircase slightly disturbed. "Curious." He takes his pen from inside his jacket and raises the carpet up with it. There's a rusted key that looks like a perfect match for the door.

He uses the key and not surprisingly, the door opens. He wonders if the robber/killer knew where the key was, why hide it again?

The detective finds a switch near the doorway and the whole basement is illuminated. There's a lone sandy colored cabinet next to the only circle window in the room. The rest of room is scattered with a plethora of weapons. The pallid walls are decorated with esoteric relics that Roy wouldn't see in any museum.

There are two suit armors across from the window. There's a door in the middle. Maybe he's just being paranoid but it seems like the armors are guarding the maroon entry way. There is a single rose decorated in the right hand corner of it.

"Roy, you manage to open the door" Maes returns with a spiky haired man wearing a navy blue CSI jacket to take pictures of the room and mark anything out of the ordinary.

"Bradley said he had recently misplaced the key."

"Fury, bag this and check the carpet at the bottom of the stairs." Any of the weapons here could be the potential murder weapon. He surely hopes one of these is the murder weapon.

"We need to get inside that room." Hughes heads for the "guarded" door. There's a cold draft coming under it. The suits of armors made it difficult to open the door and he accidently knocks the lance from one of the armor's hands.

The weapon clanks noisily against the tile floor. "Shit! Why are these things here anyway?" The lance scratched the floor's surface with the spikes circling the bottom of the knife edge.

After a few more struggles, Maes successfully opens the door. The space inside is sparse that only child can touch the walls if he spreads his arms out to his side.

An off-color freezer is perched against the clean wall. "What's in there Hughes?"

"Just a freezer! This is a strange place for something like this." Since no light is available in the closet, Maes clicks his flashlight on and peels off the freezer's cool roof.

Hughes digs into the ocean of ice and feels something out of place. "Roy, I think we found our missing apexes." Maes steps out. Apex is just code word the two uses for "head".

"How many we got?" They're encased inside a clear plastic trash bag.

"One, two, three. Only three Roy!"

"Hughes, you better go and detain Bradley. We have more questions for him." With the retreating footsteps of his partner, Roy gets to work and shoves the obstacle that's preventing the door from opening up fully.

"Here let me help you Detective." Kain Fury attempts to push the other suit armor. Detective Mustang appreciates his effort but his Roy doesn't want the younger man to hurt himself.

"I got it Fury." Fury's face lights up. This is only the third time he's in the same crime scene as Mustang so it startled him that the detective remembered his name. "Yes sir but the lab is being overrun and they're just not enough people in the field to help with the crime scenes. There's just too much death going on these days."

"All the more reason to catch the perps responsible for all of this." Roy yanks the freezer from its resting place. He's surprised he had any strength left. He hasn't slept in weeks and leaving off on caffeine.

"Make sure these gets to the lab. Lucky for them, it's already been gift wrapped."

…

She checks the cabinets for any canned foods or anything that indicates that someone lives here. "Nothing." In one of the drawers is a paper plate and plastic fork. Besides the two bedrooms upstairs and the paintings on the walls, the furniture of this enormous house is meager.

She opens the fridge door and finds an expired carton of milk. She expects the same amount of items when she checks the freezer.

She is greeted by another pair of eyes, its pupil already glazed with death. "Excuse me but who are you?" Roy is behind her, staring at the back of the unfamiliar blonde woman's head and the surprise she found in the freezer.

"Detective, it's a head." She reveals her face to him. Her bangs protrude to the left, almost above her left eye. She wears a simple black Capri pants and a coffee colored blouse.

'She's hot.' Embarrassed for even thinking it, he clears his throat and dismisses the thought.

"Thank you Miss for pointing that out. You do realize that this is a crime scene. No civilians are allowed here. I will escort you out." He puts on his most charming smile. Girls love his smile. When that didn't work he just throws a bunch of questions her way.

"Who are you?"

"A concerned citizen." She answers swiftly.

"Do you know Mr. King Bradley?"

"No."

"Are you his neighbor?"

"No."

"Okay, better question, do you live around here?"

She responds with another no. Their comical exchange ended with him sighing in exacerbation.

"This guy is dead. You think that's his head?" The oozing stench, the summer heat is starting to get on his nerves. This woman isn't helping his aggravated state. How could she be oblivious to his captivating smile?

"I don't know Miss Concerned Citizen but I'm going to ask you respectfully to \remove yourself from this area before I arrest you for trespassing and meddling with evidence." The concerned citizen kneels down and only unfolds the part of the plastic that covered the upper part of the body.

She doesn't listen and disregards his badge when he showed it. "There's a bullet on his head but why cut his head off?" She says to no one in particular. Roy parted his lips to say something but stopped himself. The COD (Cause of Death) for the other victims is drowning but he too wondered why the apexes were cut off.

He glances at the woman and watch as she examines the cold body. She looks at his face and then back to the body. Does she see something that he doesn't?

She stands up and leans on the island counter. She traces the square patterns on the surface like she's counting them. Her actions are bizarre but it also made him curious. No matter how strange she behaved, she seems to act deliberately.

"The owner loves the number seven." She raises one brow. Roy isn't sure how that relates to the case on hand and he's about to ask until she says "The paintings aren't even."

"Paintings? What do you mean they're not even?" Their eyes connect and she stares at him for a couple of minutes before breaking their sudden connection. "Eight isn't even." Roy went to school and he surely sure that eight is an even number.

"Did you check the welcome mat?"

Two personnel from the CSI unit interrupt their tête-à-tête to place the deceased inside a body bag and leaves with it. He continues their discussion but the subject about the painting is diverted to the welcome mat. "No it hasn't been checked." Intrigued by this woman, he follows her to the mat. She kneels down and he imitates her. She's waiting for him to peek under the mat.

He sees Hughes leaning against their work related ebon car, looking at his peculiar actions. His partner is probably wondering what he's doing and who this woman beside him.

"There's nothing Miss." Perhaps amusing this woman is a waste of his time. She knocks on it. It's sounded hollow; as if something is suppose to be in it.

"What's in there Mr. Detective?" He pries open the wooden floor.

"A 9mm pistol." His curiosity suddenly turns into dread. What if this woman has something to do with the murders? She's harmless enough, even with her recondite manners.

"Miss, I'd like to ask you to come with me to the station." She tilts her head to her right and then tilts to the left. It reminds him of a dog.

The deadpan expression on her face never leaves her.

"Are you buying me lunch?" She innocently asks. He gently ushers her outside with one hand while dangling the small firearm in the other.

"No Miss, I'm taking you to the police station where I will be asking you more questions." Doesn't she realize that she's being taken to the police station?

"Then you'll buy me lunch?" He agrees, if only to stop her from asking him again.

He notifies the other officers out on the lawn to keep the site out of civilians.

"Who is she Roy?" He opens the door for the young woman. "I don't know yet Hughes."

He sees from his mirror that his back passenger is strapping the seatbelt around her. "Hughes, did you see her enter the house?" His partner shakes his head no.

"Is she a suspect as well?" Roy chooses not to answer him yet.

…

Although the county where Bradley's house is in has its own police department, he wanted the supposed suspects to be questioned in Roy's home turf, downtown Manhattan.

Besides the main forensics lab is in the heart of New York and that's where all the evidences is sent to.

Roy sits her down in one of the interrogation room. The room is enough to make anyone crazy with its bright white walls and the one-way mirror that lay on the wall facing Riza.

Roy assumes she's staring at her reflection. No one is at the other side but even if there was a person there, she wouldn't be able to see them.

"I know I should've asked earlier but I'll ask now. Do you have a name?" She yawns. She has no identification on her; she didn't even have money on her.

"You're not being charged with anything. I just want to know why you were there, at my crime scene and I'd prefer to talk to someone whose name I know." He'd like to think he's not wasting his time on her when he could be with Hughes questioning their supposed lead but she must know something.

"All right. How did you know the gun was there?" He'll try different approaches with her. He likes challenges.

"It wasn't even." He considers holding her in the station but on what charges?

"You know I can charge you with trespassing. Perhaps conspiracy to murder? Then you'd have to stay here, at the police station, in a jail cell. That's never a pleasant experience so maybe it would be wise for you to cooperate." She angles her head up, and gazes on the detectives face.

"Do jail food serves pickles?" She doesn't speak again and he's waiting for her to continue. Her hazel eyes on him made him slightly nervous.

"You should get some sleep. Your judgment is foggy." So his not-so-subtle threat just whizzed by her.

"Riza." She suddenly mentions her name.

"Miss Riza. Okay I can work with that." So let me get this straight. You have no association with Mr. Bradley. You don't live in his neighborhood. So why were you there?"

She never breaks her eye contact with him. "Mr. Detective, maybe instead of asking me that question, maybe you should ask why he was there." The "he" is referring to King Bradley.

"What are you talking about? He lives there. We checked. That house is his property." He shifts his eyes away from her and maintains his fight with his fatigue.

"Miss Riza if you know something, just blurt it out."

"I know you're tired." He bites the side of his cheek. He is a gentleman. He would never yell at a woman.

"Thank you for your concern but I am fine so if you know something about the case, I would appreciate it." He's at his breaking point. Depending on what she says next, He might yell at her, curse at her, and maybe blame her for the cruelties of life.

"Are you doing this on purpose? To piss me of–" Someone knocks on the door. Roy's boss, Chief Grumman enters, carrying a folder. "Detective Mustang, there's no need to interrogate her. She's on our side. She was there because I had asked her to."

Roy takes the folder his chief is handing him. "Riza is my granddaughter. I was about to tell you that you will be expecting her but as always, you just charge in right away." Roy skims through the file given to him.

It has some information about this Riza woman but not as much as he would like. Her relationship with Grumman might explain her unconcern behavior towards him.

It just has basic information like her height, age, etc. Her whole name is Riza Hawkeye. He has heard of her surname before.

"Why would I need her? I can't even communicate with her." Roy whispers rather loudly to his superior.

The old man laughs lightheartedly. "You need a fresh and certainly a different perspective on this case." Grumman pats his back this time. "Get some rest Detective. You can't work like this. Go home and come back to work tomorrow with a clear head." His calm demeanor is the same as his granddaughter.

"Chief, I can't sleep knowing there's a killer out there." Grumman expects his star detective wouldn't comply.

"Go home Detective. Unfortunately, I don't think our killer is going to go anywhere."

As much as he would like to admit, his boss and his granddaughter are right. "I'm also sending Detective Hughes home. You two are over-exerting yourselves. Now go home. Don't make me repeat myself."

…

It's five am in the morning the next day. Riza travels back to the crime scene at the crack of dawn, and with her is a good friend who coincidently works in the lab working on the case.

King Bradley was advised to stay somewhere else since his house is under investigation.

"You'd think the basement would be in the same immaculate condition as upstairs but no. It's covered in cobwebs, dirt…" She pauses when she saw a half opened cabinet that looks like it has been recently unlocked. She pulls at the handle. Seven rows of old wine bottles are lined up by.

She picks up the one bottle with a label on the front bottle. She sniffs the tip of the bottle and takes a swig of it.

"Oh for god sake Riza. Don't drink it. " Riza makes a sour face and sticks out her tongue in disgust.

"It's not wine. It's apple juice. I hate apple juice." Riza studies the bottle's faded label. _Calais May 16, 1998 _is written on the bottle's front.

She smacks her lips together. The bottle is a thing of a past but the apple juice has been recently poured inside. It's Mott's apple juice. Rebecca bags the bottle. There could be other traces of saliva in it besides her friend's.

"Apple juice? That's kinda weird. Well anyway speaking of weird, why did you call me at the middle of the night? What if the killer comes back? I'm an expert in dirt and plants. I can't throw down with a serial murderer!" Rebecca Catalina screams in one breath.

"Rebecca, look at this." She calms down and squints at what her friend is pointing at. "It's part of a plant. It's a type of rose." Then a light bulb hits her. "It's got to be the Geum Triflorum." Rebecca picks it up with tweezers. "I remember this certain flower when I was strolling along Central Park." The reddish bell-shaped flower is usually grouped into threes but this one has been cut off from its family. The flower was sitting by the labeled bottle.

"Geum Triflorum?" Riza asks while assisting her friend with the bagging of the bottles.

"Oh sorry, it literally means Three-Flowered Avens but I like Old man's Whiskers better. It's indigenous to the eastern part of New York." Rebecca wanted to explain why she thought the flower was given the latter name but Riza has a sort of urgency on her face. She's troubled by something.

"The flower seems to have a more of sentimental value since its place next to this certain bottle. Does this flower mean anything?"

Rebecca ruminate all the information she knows about this flower in her mind. "Well I read that the Three-Flowered Avens was used as a type of medicinal herb to treat tuberculosis by the people of the Northwestern Plateau."

Riza leaves the abruptly leaves the room, as if that information is all she needed.

"Riza! Where are you going?" Rebecca couldn't chase after her. All the remaining evidence needed to be bagged but being here all alone makes her anxious.

Half an hour later, Riza returns and is cradling two withered flowers in her hands. Her gloves are caked with soil.

"More Avens?" Rebecca opens an evidence bag.

"Yes, I had initially thought the disturbances on the soil was the result of the police yesterday morning but when I inspected it closely, it is not so. Something or someone has been digging around the area. These flowers are just victims of a tragic affair."

She leaves again. Rebecca shrugs her shoulders. It's been six years since she had seen her childhood friend and she hasn't change a bit. She's always leaving the room without any explanation.

Then again her whole family is like that.

…

A good rest was really all Detective Roy Mustang needed.

"Detective Mustang, good morning. You should be in the interrogation room. Your partner is questioning a very good suspect." The boss man amiably smiles at him and sips his coffee mug.

"Who is he questioning?"

Roy rushes into the other side interrogation room to watch Hughes grill the suspect. The interrogation is being recorded.

"Mr. Detective, good morning." He isn't expecting Riza Hawkeye to be here. In fact, he was hoping he would never see her again. Talking to her gives him a headache and her pretty face can't rectify that fact.

"Good morning Miss Riza. I just missed the whole morning didn't I? Who she?" He tries his best to be polite.

"One but not five but clearly seven." She says. Roy groans. Did he mention he hates riddles?

…

**So I'm not an expert it the whole CSI, detective shenanigans , I just have some idea from all the shows I've been watching…lol I'm not sure if the Three-flowered Avens grow in Central Park but if it doesn't, let's just it does for the sake of my story lol :D. So don't forget to review and write me your thoughts on this story. Have pleasant day! :D**

**P.S. To the tens of readers still reading my other story, Compassion, it will be updated…eventually. I'm in a bit of a writer's block when it comes to that story.**


	2. C1 part 2 Sauveur

**Disclaimer: Any characters of Fullmetal Alchemist aren't mine. Warning! Some characters will be OOC** **Ummm…so this the second part of the case. The chapter is longer than the first one but I hope its fine. Forgive my French and I mean the actual French language. I trust that my friend gave me the correct form. She took it in high school. Lol… If not then please correct me. **

…

"I beg your pardon? What does that mean?" It's way too early for brain crunches.

"It means what it means." This time her tone is obviously condescending. He's never hated talking to a woman before but there's just something about this one that gets his goat.

"Right, forget I asked. So who is–" He cuts off his sentence. He knows she'll just spout out some an obscure saying that doesn't even make sense.

"I found her in Calais." He's rather stunned by her straight answer.

"Oh? where's that."

"In France." She looks at him with a serious face so it's not apparent whether she is joking with him.

"In France? Seriously, Miss Riza. Where did you find her?" She says France again. He bites the inside of his cheek.

The tension between them is palpable. 'Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.' This goes on his head like a mantra.

Roy is so engrossed by his thoughts that he doesn't even see Hughes leave the interrogation room and enters the room he is in.

Hughes slaps him on back. "Roy, where the heck have you been? We might have finally hit a break with this case. The woman in question is Clarice Bessette. She owns a beauty shop, Calais in downtown China town**. **Her husband, Andre Bessette, is our third vic. She said she hasn't seen him for three weeks. He and his friends aren't getting any hit in CODIS or even in the Interpol or anywhere. They're all non-existent except for Mrs. Bessette." He adds more. "Also the gun you found yesterday was a match to our fifth victim but not cause of death. He was already decapitated after the shot."

This serial killer worked in strange patterns and nothing linked the men to each other. Hopefully this woman can shed some light to this case.

"How did she identify him? And why didn't she report him missing?" Hughes reveals a distinct photograph of a tanned arm with a cabalistic tattoo on it.

"This occult tattoo is on every one of our victims' right arm so I don't know how she could tell that's her husband but she's sure. To answer your second question, she claims that her husband does that often."

A pale finger points to a specific point in the photograph. "Angel. Mrs. Bessette knew what to look for. The others don't have that angel decoration."

Roy squints hard and sees a miniscule angel in the middle of a half circle. It rests on top of the bicep, surrounded by unique lines and symbols that are not discernable to anyone that doesn't know what they're looking at.

Basically, it's hiding in plain sight

"Our people didn't see this? How did you see this, Miss Riza?"

"I saw it because it is there. I would not have seen it if it was not there." She takes a blue container out of her bag. She opens the lid and sniffs it.

"You want some pickles?" The pungent smell of her food evades his nostrils. She pokes her pickled treat with a plastic fork and chomps on it.

"You are eating now?" He's not too fond of pickles. "That's disgusting." She tries to feed him one. "Hey! Get that away from me."

He moves his head to the right and then to the left. She won't relent.

As much as Hughes finds their playful antics entertaining, they have a killer to capture.

"Focus, you two." Hughes feels like a parent trying to control both of his children.

Roy has enclosed his hands around her wrist. "She started it." Hughes has never seen his partner like this. Roy is usually professional and focused in the work place.

"Never mind that. I need more answers but Mrs. Bessette keeps breaking down in hysterics and starts speaking in French." Then an idea pops up. "Miss Riza, your French earlier was perfect. Mrs. Bessette might be more comfortable speaking to someone in her own tongue."

Roy protests to this.

"Unless you can speak French Roy, I'm all out of options. Our translator is three hours away. We need to close this case already."

The longer they dawdle, the more likely the killer will become out of their reach. "Fine but one more question. Where…no who found Mrs. Bessette?"

"I did." She raises her palm. Her hazel eyes hold no trickery. She truly wants to help.

"Did you also happen to coincidently find her?" She smiles. Her pearly white teeth are practically glowing.

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Of course you were. I appreciate your help then, Miss Riza" He holds out his hand for a handshake.

She accepts it.

He'll give her the benefit of the doubt.

…

Yesterday before Roy left, he had their sketch artist, Alex Louis Armstrong draw a sketches of the victims that is more alive looking.

"Okay, Miss Riza. Ask her about Mr. Bradley." He places the picture of Mr. Bradley on the table.

"_**Madame, Avez-vous vu cet homme?**_"

"_**Non.**__"_ The brunnette woman takes the Kleenex being handed to her. Clarice has never seen Bradley before but he can't simply be ruled out just yet.

"_**Avez-vous une photo de votre mari**__?"_Riza asks for a picture of Mrs. Bessette's husband.

Clarice takes out a picture from her purse. The photo is creased from the folding. In it are the smiling faces Clarice and her husband. He's holding her safe in his arms.

His medium built and tanned skin corresponds to the third victim.

"_**Mon mari. Andre Bessette."**_

"Her husband." Riza examines the photo. It was taken near a light house. Clarice is holding a Three-flowered Avens.

"Mrs. Bessette, Okay, what about these four gentlemen?" He sprawls the drawings side by side with each other.

She inhales sharply and covers her mouth with shaky hands. Tears are cascading from her reddened cheeks like a black river.

"Ma'am, if you know anything, please we want to bring their killer to justice."

She recognizes all of them. "My husband's friends." Her accent is thick but understandable.

"My husband took me here to America because of…no" She pauses. She is searching for the right words. "For a better life. His friends followed. They were all good men." Riza could sense a "but" in that sentence.

"We are like family. All of us."

"Mrs. Bessette did your husband and his friends have any enemies? Do you know anybody who would want him or his friends dead?" Roy tries to look into her eyes but she pries hers from cur

Clarice shifts her eyes away from the pictures. It's breaking her heart. "_**Non**__."_

"There's something she's keeping from us." Roy pulls Maes aside.

"I know Roy but it's not like we can threaten her. Maybe we should give her break for now."

"_**Sept**_. What does that mean to you?" Riza suddenly speaks ups. She directly stares at the grief-stricken woman's emerald eyes. "_**Sept?**_" A memory from weeks earlier invades Clarice's mind.

"_Remember what I told you. I will protect you."_ She closes her eyes to rid of the voice. Riza tilts her head to the side.

"_**Blaise Bergeron**_." She says. This man's name has an impact on her. Her breathing become even.

"My husband lost contact with him a year ago. I haven't seen him since but since you brought it up, I might as well say something. My husband called him _**fou**__. _It means lunatic. _**Blaise**_ is not in his right mind. " When she said this, her voice didn't waver. Just a moment ago, she was panicked and unsteady. Her words felt rehearsed. Riza became more fascinated.

"This is the only known addresses I know he has before we lost in contact." Hughes accepts the ripped out piece of paper. The home address bewilders him. It's King Bradley's place of residence.

Roy's cell phone rings. "Excuse me."

"What? We'll be there." He snaps his phone shut.

"We got another body."

…

When Roy got there, his team is already there taking pictures and bagging and tagging anything that can be of use.

The body is on the sidewalk, outside the penetrating rays of the sun. It's in the middle of the afternoon and sweat begins to slide down on Roy's back.

'If there's going to be any dead bodies, why can't they be in a nice refreshing air conditioned room.'

Hughes and he had no choice but to split up to cover more track. Hughes is going to pick up on their other lead and check out Bradley's house. If he's lucky, Blaise could be back. He's going to be bringing along the owner of the house with him. Fortunately, Mr. Bradley hasn't been a problem yet. He remains cooperative with the police, and answers every question brought to him to the best of his ability.

Roy on the other hand, his destination is to The South Bronx. To his chagrin, Riza tagged along for the ride.

The victim was found in a nearby building by The Hub, the miniature time square of The South Bronx.

"Eyewitness said that the man just fell from the sky. We say he fell from up there." Officer Heymans Breda points up to the exposed 7th floor window of a small grayish apartment building. The ivory curtains are disturbed and stained.

The onlookers behind the tape are trying to have a look see at the scene before them. Most of the people have shopping bags on their hands and is taking pictures from their phones.

Problem is they're crowding too much.

"Officer Breda. Keep any civilians out of here." Breda mentions the blonde woman squatting near the body. She lifts up the cover and raises her brow.

"Don't worry officer. She's with me." Breda accepts this and follows his orders.

"Mr. Detective, this one has a head." The man with the head smells like paint.

"Perceptive, aren't you sweetie?" Rebecca winks at her friend. Apparently she is also part of Team Mustang.

"I hope you two don't know each other." Roy crosses his finger. To his dismay, she does confirm they're friends.

"Relax Detective. I still answer to you and the Chief. Riza is extra help. Fury and I will take this poor soul back to the Lair. We'll find more there. There's a possibility he's not related to the recent killings." The Lair is her name for the crime lab. "Oh one more thing!" She places a manila folder into his calloused hand. "Hope that helps!"

"Thanks and you do that Catalina. We'll stay here a little longer."

"Miss Riza, we should check the apartment he fell from." Riza looks past the detective's head and stumbles on someone who is surveying the scene instead of just observing curiously like the other spectators.

"Miss Riza? Did you hear me?" He waves his hands in front of her hands.

The dubious man notices her eyes on him. He pulls up his hood and turns his heels to the opposite direction, away from the crime scene.

"Miss Riza?" She follows him without even glancing at Mustang. She cuts around the crowd.

"Miss Riza! What is up with her?" When he catches up, she's already at the end of the street. The sidewalk is remotely empty since everyone else is back at the crime scene. You'd think a street performer is there with the large crowd its gathered.

He sees her turn left, on what it seems to be an alleyway.

"Miss Riza!" He calls out to her but she doesn't turn his way. "I swear. She has a loose screw in there somewhere." He jogs there.

"Riza?" Her back is to him. Roy never saw it coming.

It happened so fast. She was talking to a man and next thing you know she is pulled into a chokehold when the detective appeared.

On instinct, Roy zero in on the man with his pistol.

The hooded man's serrated knife is dangerously near Riza's neck.

However, she's calm and collected. The man clearly over powers her and it won't do her any good to panic.

"Let her go." Roy notes the attacker's unguarded leg. He could aim for that.

The man suddenly starts speaking in French. Roy can't interpret what he is saying.

"It's all right Mr. Detective. He said to put your gun down. He will let me go. This man, he is related to Andre Bessette." He whispers something in her ear. She responds in English.

"Mr. Detective, please put the gun down. He has information he wants to divulge." He pushes down the hammer of the gun.

"Does he now? Let her go first, and then we'll have a nice chat. We can even talk about our feelings if you want." Sarcasm is evident in his voice.

No noise. No scuffle. The world seemed to come into a screeching halt.

Without warning, the hooded man drops the knife on the asphalt and kicks it to the side. He surrenders.

He slowly moves forward to Roy and gently shoves her to him. "If you don't mind, I'm going to have to restrain you." The man doesn't struggle as Roy handcuff him.

Roy's concerned eyes wander on her neck. The knife had grazed her skin.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine Mr. Detective; he didn't mean to hurt me. Thank you for your concern."

…

"Okay Astin. You have my undivided attention. Speak." Roy brought him down to the station. Astin Bessette, the younger brother of Andre, was stoic during the car ride.

Astin looks to be in his early 20s. His built and features are the same as his brother. His chestnut hair is the only thing that differed from his brother. Andre had a more copper colored hair.

"I was there to visit Blaise but you were there already." His accent isn't as thick as Clarice's. He stares at his lap, ashamed about something. He makes no eye contact with Roy and if he has to look at someone, it would be Riza.

"He didn't mean to kill anyone. All of us. We're family." He fists up the material of his pants in his hand but remains compose. "But it wasn't supposed to be like this. Coyne_**, **_Darell_**,**_ Gaston_**, **_Clarke_**. **_Did Blaise kill them?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. " Roy waits patiently for him to talk again. The pair's eyes are on Astin's trembling figure.

"About three weeks ago, I came in _**Blaise **_apartment and my brother was already lying there, drowning in the pool of his own blood. Blaise was holding a bat. _**Blaise **_told me to leave the room because he'll take care of everything. " His Adam's bobs up and down.

'This boy' Riza thought. 'He's not telling the whole truth.' She should instigate him. She has no doubt in that her Mr. Detective will hop on board with her plan.

Roy hasn't known Riza for very long, actually it's just been two days but there it is. That glint in her eyes that says she knows something he doesn't.

"What else Astin? There's more to your story. Did _**Blaise**_ tell you to tell us this just in case we catch up with you? Don't protect a murder. Are you protecting a murder?" She spoke in a hushed whisper at the end.

'I get it. All right.' Roy changes his facial visage to appear more unpleasant. He can't afford to play nice anymore.

His shoulders tenses and starts fidgeting on his seat. Right on a cue, Roy joins in.

"What is it Astin? Is she right? Who are you protecting, Astin? Is protecting this man worth your family's life? Worth yours?" Roy slams his hands on the table. Astin flinches at the loud bang and automatically looks up at the detective.

"If you were all family, why would he kill them? Why would he murder them all, Astin?" Roy's intimidating tone is starting to weaken Astin's resolve.

He sniffs. "I don't know. I don't know. Andre and sis were arguing. There was shouting. _**Blaise **_was there and sis told me to go out so I did and…and… I heard some weird noises so I went back in and my brother was dead. There was so much blood. He wouldn't stop. Even after I told him to stop." He clutches his head and shakes it feverishly.

"Hey calm down."

Roy displays the four other victim's portraits. "Do you know them?" He nods his head. Astin has a foreboding feeling about what he's going to find out next.

"I'm sorry, Astin. They're dead." The young man holds his head down.

A knock on the door interrupts them. "Detective Mustang, I'm sorry to bother you but this woman wanted to talk to you."

Clarice is outside the door. The moment her eyes locks on her trembling brother-in-law's, she rushes to him and holds him against herself.

She says something to him in their native language.

"Mrs. Bessette, you lied to us. Astin here claims your husband and you have been arguing. You also said you lost touch with Bergeron. I don't think you are being honest with us."Clarice rubs the younger Bessette's back and smiles at him.

"I...There is nothing I could say that can forgive my actions. We were arguing about something so stupid. We fought and I don't know what came over me. I pushed him. He hit something. He stopped moving. My husband would never hurt me...I"

She swallows the bile threatening to rise up. " The others found out but I didn't expect he had plans to kill them. It was so stupid. What we were fighting over, so stupid." She places her palm flat on the metallic table. "Please, _**Astin**_ has nothing to do with this. He's going to be somebody. Let him go."

"Do you know where Blaise is Mrs. Bessette?" Roy questions her. He's not happy he has to arrest her but murder is murder. But, there is still a chance that she is covering for Blaise.

"Right behind you." His white hair slicked back, his voice, void of any emotions. Hughes has him at the back of his collar, holding him in place.

"Roy, look who I found. He was down in the basement." Blaise wears a clean cottoned collar shirt, and also donning a crease-free black dress pants. His shoes are polished to the nub and his eyes are covered by a perfectly circular spectacle. Its tint is darker than night itself.

"_**Blaise Qu'est-ce que toi tu fais ici?**_" Clarice doesn't sound too happy to see him.

"Come now Clarice, you know exactly why I'm here. I'm here turn myself in." A smirk arises from his lips.

"Bergeron I presume. Nice of you to join us." Roy gestures his hands to a chair. Blaise sits on it. His stride was arrogant, his body language proud and stuck up.

"It is nice to meet you, Detective. Whatever Clarice had told you, she was lying. I told her to say that. I killed them all. I killed that man you found in The Bronx. That was a shame but his use had been long over its due." Roy removes Blaise's sunglasses. Red eyes now stare at him with wicked intent.

"So you killed them. Even Andre? The people you called family, you killed them? Why?" As lead detective of this case, he wants to catch the killer as much as the next guy but he needs to be sure that he arrests the actual criminal. Blaise Bergeron claims he is killer but Roy is not fully convinced.

"Why not, Detective? A man will do anything to save the woman he loves. The rest got too nosy. I didn't want to get caught. Not yet at least. I drowned then cut their heads off with wire saw."

He laughs. He throws the same wire he used. The silver the wire is clean. "I wanted to keep it for souvenir."

The noise of a door opening and closing echoes in the room but Roy pays is no heed.

"Do you require a lawyer, Mr. Bergeron?" Blaise slowly move his head left to right. His grin never leaves his pale face.

"No, just arrest me."

…

"There is strange after taste about this case." Hughes takes a swig of the whiskey in front of him. After the arrest, the men went to their usual hang out place, The Trident. Business in the Trident booms especially at night.

Roy agrees with that. He advised Mrs. Bessette and Astin to stay in town just in case something else comes out. Blaise will remain lock up for the meanwhile.

His motive confuses Roy. Jealousy is an ugly thing but if Blaise wanted to get rid of witnesses, why not kill the younger Bessette as well.

His thoughts suddenly drift on the duffel bag by his feet. Roy had completely forgotten what Rebecca had given him earlier this afternoon. He opens the beige fold and there are recent document findings about the case.

"Apple juice?" He flips to the next page. It's written that Rebecca had found several bottles that stood out from the others in a cabinet of Bradley's basement. Four of the bottles have saliva traces are consistent with the DNA of the victims, with the exception of the sixth victim. It had contained apple juice. There is also an unknown male's finger print on certain bottle that had the date: May 16 1998.

"Potassium Cyanide? Poisoned? They were poisoned Hughes." Hughes reads over his shoulder.

"So can we assume that Bergeron poisoned them? Even Andre. So they weren't drowned. Any traces of the poison must've vanished."

'That Catalina' Roy hissed her name in his mind. He simply had forgotten with all that happened earlier but usually Rebecca gives him a manila folder containing an issue of Celebrity Gossip. She does it as a joke and even goes to the trouble of attaching it on the folder so he didn't think anything of the it.

Slightly exasperated, he downs the rest of his scotch.

He could hear his rhythmic beat of his ringtone.

"Mustang." It's Riza. "How'd you get this number?" He hears a gunshot in the background. "Miss Riza? Where are you?" He hears more firing. Alarmed by this, he goes outside and into his car.

"Stay on the phone with me. What do you mean you're fine?" A distraught man's voice he doesn't recognize chimes in.

" Who's that and why are you at King Bradley's house?" She hangs up.

" Hughes! Let's go!"

…

When the detectives arrived, a parked car is already on the driveway. The silver vehicle is the expensive luxury car, The Neron. Roy would know, he's been dreaming about it for awhile.

'Could that be her car?'

A statuesque man comes out of the front door. His physique is quite muscular, his muscles bulges out from his clothes. He stands guard in front of the door. His action is like a bouncer at a bar.

"Mr. Detective. Detective Hughes. I'm glad you're here. I got it. I figured it out." Riza pops up from behind holding in her gloved hands a well preserve…head.

"Miss Riza, where did you find him?" It's Andre. His serene features makes it look like he was sleeping.

Riza takes the detectives to the living room. It's not much of a living room since there is no furniture. There's just a single grand fireplace and paintings on the walls. Seven paintings to be exact.

"I borrowed this." Her tall friend holds the folder file for the case up. It was on his desk.

"You mean you stole it." She smiles. She purses her lips and points to the direction of the fireplace. She is pointing to the big gaping hole near it.

As he advances closer, he could see there's a metallic square door in the hidden compartment. There is a slight chill and he now knows why.

It is a small refrigerator. It was locked before. An odd place to put it in but this is where Andre had been hiding in. There is also flower in the refrigerated box.

Somehow Riza discovered this. He glances at the painting near him.

It's a field of flowers, with the sun setting on the bac. The same flower in the refrigerated. Someone's initial is on the bottom right hand corner.

_A.B._

He studies the room more carefully. This portrait is the only one made by A.B.

"What does this have to do with the murd-"

"I saw this yesterday but I couldn't figure out the lock combination."

"You could have–"

"I know but I wanted find the code."

"You should've have told me."

"But you arrested me before I had the chance."

"I did not arrest you."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Hughes interrupts their little squabble again with a deafening whistle.

"So what is the code then?" Hughes asks.

"0 5 1 6"

…

Roy received a call from Rebecca when he arrived at the station. She informed him that the sixth victim is Jacob Rauser. There is an abundant amount of water in his lungs but there are also traces of potassium cyanide.

On their way over, Riza had shared her theory. Blaise's whole motive puzzled her too. Why go to the trouble of covering your tracks just to turn yourself anyway at the end? He could have absconded but he stayed.

"Is there a reason why I'm here again Detective Mustang? You interrupted my meal." Blaise leans back on the chair. Being chained up didn't faze him. He seems almost satisfied with himself. Going to jail doesn't bother him at all.

So what can Roy do to break his composure?

"You are here Mr. Bergeron because I wanted to talk." From the window on the door, Blaise could see Hughes guiding the handcuffed Clarice somewhere else.

"What are you doing? I told you I did it. I killed them not her." His voice sounded strained.

"I believe the facts Mr. Bergeron. The evidence. Sure you killed the painter. I believe that but you only help killed your friends. Mrs. Bessette, she was the one who did the deed. Then she cut them up, not you. She told us where she kept her husband's head. It was behind a painting."

The bearded friend of Riza's enters the room, carrying the painting. "A sentimental act but nonetheless her guilt overwhelmed her and finally told us real truth. You only disposed the body, she did everything else." Blaise bashes his head on the table. He created a small dent on it.

He starts laughing maniacally. "No you are lying. Because I was the one who killed them. I had already poisoned that damn Andre. He was drunk because I spiked his drink. I was in another room when I heard them shouting." Blood glides down from his head, blinding his left eye.

His gravelly voice heightened. "I came in the room and I saw her shoved him once. He wasn't in his full strength and stumbles back and hit his head on a clothes hook. The poison had already taken effect and he was foaming at the mouth."

"She went to the bathroom and I heard her vomiting. I took Andre's favorite baseball bat and hit him with it. It felt liberating! He had the woman I loved and he didn't deserve her. The others poked their asses into something that didn't concern them but they thought she killed him. They wanted to turn her in."

"You said I had a family. I never did. They hated Clarice, they never accepted her. Only tolerated her for Andre. I kept Astin alive because he is the only one who genuinely appreciated her." He doesn't stop his crazed hysteric cackle.

"The painter. Why kill him then?" Roy lays a photo of Jacob Rauser's deceased corpse flat on the table.

"Him? I found him by chance in a bar. He was a house designer of a business who's hardly home. I got him drunk and got an address. I needed some place to stuff the bodies. A place that could not be disturbed by the police. The house has a large distance from another the other house so it was perfect."

Something clicked in Roy's ears. He recoils back a bit. "So you made it look like a serial killing. Congratulations, you got what you wanted. But why the number seven?" Blaise sneered at the detective.

"The designer thought it was a lucky number. It wasn't me. I'm impressed you caught that, Detective. I didn't think it was obvious. Now take me to jail. I have enough of this."

Roy directs Officer Breda and another officer to bring him back to his cell. He'll be transferred to a larger prison in the morning. He'll stay there until his trial.

The door hasn't been opened yet.

"Wait, Bergeron. Mrs. Bessette, she was scared that she had killed her husband. You used that to your advantage didn't you? You only wanted her to see you and only you. Now, she really is looking at you." Blaise closes his ear. He hears nothing. Not anymore.

The door opened and as the officers drag him out, Clarice waits and looks at him with unmistakable betrayal in her eyes.

"Clarice. No. No." "No" lingers in his mouth.

…

"Nice work, Mr. Detective. You and your team did good work." Riza and Roy stands in front of the station. The evening went by fast without a warning. After a job complete, Hughes hurried home to his pregnant wife.

A murderer is in jail and Roy could sleep soundly, until the next creep rises that is.

"No, thank you Miss Riza. You gave me quite an earful." He taps the earpiece imbedded in his ear.

He outstretched his hand. She accepts it. He glances at her gorilla friend by her car.

"Who is that?" He spoke like he was telling a secret to her.

"My nanny."

She waves a final goodbye.

"Wait!" She turns around to his call.

"You never explained "one but not five but clearly seven" means."

"I told you Mr. Detective. It means what it means. It's up to you how you want to interpret it."

…

**Finito…So yea…**

**Please, make sure to write down any constructive criticism. I always aim to improve. :D If you're confused about any parts of the first two chapters, voice your question (Pm me or review to this chapter). Umm…thank you for reading! :D **


	3. C2 part 1 Black Umbrella

**So I'm not an expert it the whole CSI, detective shenanigans , I just have some idea from all the shows I've been watching** **Here comes my generic Disclaimer (with a Scottish accent): Fullmetal Alchemist obviously doesn't belong to me. Some characters will be OOC, Riza for example. **

**This part one of Black Umbrella, the title of this chapter.**

**I hope you review at the end and tell me what you think.**

…

"Beautiful! Just beautiful!" The proud father stands up and claps at his youngest daughter's piano performance. He was slightly tearing up.

The young woman on stage elegantly bowed. Her vibrant ginger eyes were glowing. She was basking in the audience's attention on her.

She was glowing.

…x…

Rebecca hissed as she took pictures of the dead battered woman on the ground. "Someone did not like you." A crowd started to gather behind the yellow tape as the police officers prohibited anyone from entering the crime scene.

"Catalina…" Roy Mustang stood beside her. He looked displeased as he placed his hands in his pockets, diverting himself from strangling someone. "Yes Detective?"

"What is Miss Riddles doing here?" Rebecca raised her brow questionably. "Oh you mean Riza? She got clearance from the chief to help us out with the case. I hope you don't mind." She eyed him carefully, waiting for his reaction. She flicked her eyes elsewhere when he caught her staring. She was a bit disappointed when she only got a twitch from him.

"Why don't you go say hi, Detective Mustang. Be a good boy." She coaxed him as she would a kindergartener.

Roy reluctantly approached Riza and she waved at him. "Hello Mister Detective." She said politely. "Hello Miss Hawkeye." He greeted back.

"There is a dead woman."

"Yes I know Miss Hawkeye." An awkward silence floats in the air.

"What? No riddles?"

"No. I can see that those exhaust you." She innocently stated.

His lips twitched upwards but took a deep breath before speaking. This woman will not get on his nerves. He knelt beside her to examine the pool of blood. The tree above them stood quietly. "Do you have a pen Mister Detective?" He fumbled in the pockets of his jacket suit and handed his newly bought fountain pen.

"Why do you-" She poked it in the blood pool and lifted a blood soaked bracelet. "It might be hers. Bag it." She didn't understand why he looked so annoyed. "Oh I'm sorry Mister Detective. Did you want to say bag it?" He signaled one of the CSI to take the evidence and included his pen along with it. He should have known to ask before handing his pen out.

He cleared his throat.

"So where's is Detective Hughes?"

"He took a leave of absence for personal reasons. Anyway go home now Miss Hawkeye. If we need your help, I'll contact you."

"All right."

He was surprised at her sudden cooperation. "All right Miss Hawkeye? I thought you would be more persistent."

"Okay, if you insist Mister Detective. I will stay for you."

He stood there speechless. "That's not what I meant."

"It hasn't rain yet." Riza quickly changed the subject. She looked up at the clear blue.

"Get to the point, Miss Hawkeye."

"She brought an umbrella but it wasn't raining." It took him a second but he realized what she was talking about. There was a black umbrella that was found along with the dead girl. "Maybe she didn't like the sun."

She was considering it and said nothing as she followed him silently towards Rebecca and the newly arrived Vato Falman. He checked the body for the time of death. "I'm sorry for being late, Detective." He examined the body closely with his squinty eyes. "She is still warm but rigor hasn't set in yet. She hasn't been dead for more than three hours." It is now 7:45 a.m.

"I guess she's coming with us to the lab." Rebecca called some her co-workers to carry the body out of the crime scene.

…xx…

"Our vic is Evelyn Knight. She was a sophomore student in Julliard." Evelyn's driver's license showed up in the screen in front of them. "Straight A's, never got in trouble. She has…had a part time job at Sephora! I love that place! Last week I-" Roy interrupted Rebecca before she got too carried away.

"Catalina! You can tell me the sales later. Anything else?" Roy massaged his temples.

"Her parents reported her missing a week ago. There are multiple stab wounds all over but the most prominent is on her abdomen and her neck. Well it's more like a puncture wound, shaped like a diamond. " She looked at Fury, telling him to take the stand.

Kain timidly spoke out. " But, Miss Evelyn died from asphyxiation. She received her wounds right after she was killed. This was inside her throat." He revealed a plastic bag containing a bracelet. The chained bracelet has a silver keychain of an owl with a LK inscription in the middle of it.

"The design is the same as the one that Miss Riza had found but both have different initials. The one she found has a M on it" He concluded.

Rebecca suddenly gasped. She had seen this before. "The Night Owl!" Everyone in the room looked at her curiously. "Oh where do you guys live? In the country-side? The Night Owl is a hidden gem of this great city. It's basically a type of place where people gather and…" She trailed on. "…appreciate beautiful women." Kain coughed loudly. Riza tilted her head to the side, confused as to what Rebecca was implying.

"A strip joint? Really Catalina!" Roy shook his head. Only she would know this information.

"Yeah! All the workers there wear that kind of bracelet. The owner likes to brand them."

"Can you confirm that she wore that?" Fury showed the Detective a picture of Evelyn's right wrist. "The bruised marks has the same pattern as chained bracelet and it was ripped out of her wrist forcefully. It's probable that either bracelet could be hers."

Rebecca raised her hand excitedly. "I know I'll take Kain to the Owl and we'll investigate there." She jumped eagerly but Roy stopped her. "What! You just want to go. I promise I'll be professional. Pinky swear!"

"Fine Catalina go. Fury keep her in check."

"Grab the equipment Kain." She left the room, leaving the spiky haired man slightly baffled. This will be his second time on the field and he was just volunteered with the overly excited Rebecca Catalina. "We'll leave at once." He followed her out the door.

Riza stood beside him, poking her hand inside her small bag. "Twizzler?" She held out the red licorice treat.

"No thank you, Miss Hawkeye." Now he's stuck with her.

…xxx…

"Miss Hawkeye, I'll do the talking." Roy knocks on the door and a middle-aged woman immediately opened it. Her eyes are red; there are heavy bags under her eyes. Her dirty blonde hair is disheveled and her diminutive figure made her look fragile, breakable.

He held up his badge. "Hello, ma'am. I am Detective Roy Mustang and this is…" He introduced himself but what does he call her? "I'm his bodyguard, Riza Hawkeye." She didn't wait for him and he was about to correct her when the woman on the door began to speak.

"Is this about my daughter? Did you find my Evelyn?" Mrs. Knight opened the door fully, letting them both in. She motioned for them to have a seat. "Yes, ma'am we found her." Roy has been in these kinds of situations numerous times so you'd think it would get easier but it never does. The woman's eyes shined with hope but when she saw the detective's frown, she knew. She denied it all this time and now it has become a reality. She covered her mouth; a strangled sound came out of her.

Her husband heard the door and entered the living room. He saw his wife's trembling form. "I'm sorry for your loss." The woman remained motionless and her husband had to guide her over to the couch, across from their visitors. "Where did you find her?" The older man's voice cracked. "In Central Park." Roy gives them a moment before asking questions that could help their case.

"Do you know if she had enemies?" Roy is careful with his words. He wouldn't want to risk upsetting the couple anymore than they already are. "No, Eve has no enemies. She's friendly with everyone. She's full of life, full of love. Who would want to hurt her?" The father spoke, his voice was bitter and morose.

Even though Riza was told not to say anything she wanted to comment on a picture on the coffee table. "Your daughter played the piano." A small smile appeared on the man's bearded face. "Yes, her teacher calls her the 21st century Mozart."

"Elie. Eliza Loewe is her best friend." Mrs. Knight whispered. Tears cascaded down her distressed face. "She won't talk to us but I know she knows something. Please." She pleaded.

"Of course. We do will what we can. Thank you for your time and will notify you when we find something." She clasped Roy's right hand and looked directly at his dark eyes. "Please." He squeezed back. "We will find her murderer."

As they were heading to the car, Roy glanced at the black vehicle parked right behind his. They entered the car but Roy didn't start it. He checked his rear-view mirror. That car had been following him for quite sometime now.

Noticing a changed in his behavior, Riza pressed the horn and the car behind them started.

"Relax Mister Detective. That's DK. He follows me. I told you before that he's my nanny." _Her nanny? That big guy with her from several weeks ago?_ He did recall seeing someone with her. "Why do you need to be followed?"

Then he felt his cellphone vibrate saving Riza from answering his query."Catalina! What? I can't hear you! Fine, we'll head there."

…xxxx…

A muscular colored man stood in front of the club's entrance. The pair approached the bouncer but he barely acknowledged them. "You two got some permission to enter?" He sneered without looking at them. Roy flashed his badge. "How is this for permission?" The bouncer growled but stepped aside.

When they entered, the smell of booze, smoke and other scents invaded their nostrils. The loud techno music was deafening and people were hollering. It wasn't even five p.m. yet. "So we should split up." He grabbed her ponytail. "No Miss Hawkeye. You stick close to me." He shackled her arm with his own. "Where is that Catalina?" Rebecca greeted him with a pat on the back. "I hope you weren't drinking on the job."

"Just little. Mustang, I was talking to the bartender and he knew who Evelyn was. Or should I say Lady Knight. He recognized her bracelet. She was LK. She's pretty popular here." She said. "She led a double life. That must have been exciting. Well up to the point where she died."

"Sometimes I worry for you. Did you talk to the owner?"

"Yes sir I did. Isaac McDougal, the owner was surprisingly cooperative about letting us snoop around his property. Fury is at the back alley now."

"Where is McDougal now?"

"I saw him go up that stairs over there." She pointed at the stairs at the back of the place.

"Mister Detective." Riza moved her arm, as she tried to pry her arm away from his strong clutch.

"Mister Detective." She said again.

"All right, we'll head-"

"Mister Detective." She repeated.

"What Miss Hawkeye?"

"Look at the woman on stage." The eight women on the stage was doing their dancing, grabbing the attention of the drooling men below the platform. "What are you talking about?" Riza pointed out the woman on the middle. She was the only one with a prop on her hand. From the ceiling, a small shower rained down and the woman opened an umbrella and twirled it, spraying her fellow dancers.

"The umbrella Miss Hawkeye. You mean the umbrella." She questioned it before and now it popped out again. "It's just an umbrella. It's a prop. You can get one anywhere. It's New York." Once again he wasn't listening so she stepped on his foot and he instinctively released her arm. "Miss Hawkeye!" She climbed on stage. The dancers acted like she wasn't there and kept up with their routine, not even minding Riza as she headed to the middle woman.

It rained down again and she got soaked. The middle woman smirked at her and once again twirled her umbrella. "Evelyn Knight." The middle woman froze. It rained again but this time the woman didn't lift her umbrella.

"Should I give Riza a dollar or should you?" Rebecca flapped a dollar bill on his face.

…xxxxx…

Roy poured the woman a glass of water. The middle woman agreed to head down to the station to answer any questions. "Eliza Loewe. Evelyn's mother mentioned that you know something." She trembled.

"No. I don't know." She stuttered.

"Is this yours?" He threw the bag that contained the bracelet with the initial M in it. "I'm guessing by your expression that it's yours." She averted her eyes away from it. "What you didn't like that Evelyn was getting all the tips, the attention. So you killed her."

"No that's not true!" She blurted out. "She was a natural but its not like she wanted to do it. She was...she didn't need the money. She just wanted attention."

"You know Miss Eliza, this is not the only job in the world. You shouldn't sell yourself short." She drank some water while holding some kind of composure.

"I didn't kill her I swear. Yesterday she was still alive when I left her. Are you going to tell her parents? Please don't. They're nice people. I don't want them disappointed in her. I told her to be careful about McDougal. She wanted to prove me wrong." Roy sat on the edge of the table.

"Prove you wrong?"

"I told her once you've been branded, there's no way out. I told her but didn't stay away. She confronted him. She stopped her life so that she can get mine on track." Her tears escaped. "This isn't what I wanted to happen with my life. It just happened."

"So she wasn't there for the attention."

"No. Of course not!" There was a knock on the door and Breda opened it. "Detective, Miss Loewe's lawyer is here." Roy looked at the man at the door. "Come Eliza. My client will not speak to you while I am not present."

"Kimblee, how nice to see your face around here." Kimblee tipped his hat. "Yes Detective. It is always a pleasure to be in your presence." McDougal was standing behind him, extended his hand to the girl. Eliza didn't take it but went to him nevertheless. "Our business is done here Detective Mustang. Good day to you."

"Who was that Mister Detective?"

"It doesn't matter Miss Hawkeye. Let's go back to the lab and-" His stomach protested. "Looks like you're hungry." Embarrassed, he rubbed his stomach and gave in. A small break won't hurt him.

"Fine I know a place." It was a quick walk from the police station and they entered a quaint diner that he always ate at.

"Is it your treat?" He took out his wallet. "Yes Miss Hawkeye, why not." She took it as a sign to order a plethora amount of food from the menu.

As they wait for their order at the corner booth, Riza stared at him. "What Miss Hawkeye? Is there something on my face?"

"What did you want to do with your life, when you were a kid?" He was startled with her curve ball of a question. "What brought this is on? Eliza Loewe?" She didn't respond.

"I don't remember. I probably wanted to do this. Be a detective. Why what did you want to do?" Truth be told, he didn't even know what the woman in front of him do for a living. Frankly, he didn't anything about her at all.

"I wanted to be around a lot of people."

"You want a big family?" Their orders arrived. She didn't elaborate any further as she bled the ketchup bottle dry and slathered her plate of fries with it. "Miss Hawkeye?" If she wont talk, he will let her be.

He watched the setting sun as it slowing disappeared from the sky. The day was ending but they were still nowhere in the case.

…x…

It was the next morning when Roy was roused from the comfortable fortress of his bed. He aimlessly searched for his ringing cell phone and answered it sleepily. "What?" It was Hughes.

"Maes? How's your wife?"

"Oh she's fine Roy. A healthy baby girl. She is so adorable. I will show you some pictures." Roy buried his head on the pillow. "I sent Miss Riza to wake you up. Is she there?"

"You what?" He scrambled around his messy room for his boxers. "She's not here yet. You're briefed on the case?"

"Indeed I was. I'll see you in a bit Roy." He opened the door to make some coffee. He rubbed his chin and the sides of his jaw. He needed to shave.

"Good morning Mister Detective. Do you have some sugar?"

"Good morning Miss Hawkeye. Yes, its on the second pantry on the right." He yawned and entered the bathroom. A second later, he opened the door again and she was still there. "Miss Hawkeye what are you doing here and how did you get inside?"

"There was key above the door frame."

"You should have knocked."

"I did. You didn't answer."

"Then you should have called."

"I would but I don't have your number." She made a cup of coffee for him. He raked his already disheveled hair. He sipped his cup. "Yes, what is it?"

"You don't have shirt on." She didn't look at him.

"Yes I know. I just woke up. I'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Okay, hurry up. Let's go to the lab." True to his words, he was ready and sauntered out of this apartment. Riza was waiting for him by his car, avoiding his eyes. She sat on the back seat, which was unusual since she always sat up front. "You all right Miss Hawkeye?" She said nothing.

The car ride was awkward and when he wanted her to say something, she doesn't say anything. As soon as they arrived, Hughes greeted them, with pictures. "Roy you must see my sweet Elicia. She is so precious!"

"Yes they're great. Catalina, there you are." Roy managed to maneuver his way out of his partner's barrage of pictures so Hughes moved to Riza, who looked at each one of his pictures.

Roy joined Rebecca at her desk. "Catalina, anything?" She snapped her finger and typed something on her laptop. "As a matter of fact, here is a camera footage hours before her death. I found a charge on her credit card at a nearby Walgreens around the park. She bought some bandages and two bottles of antiseptic alcohol." Evelyn on the camera didn't look injured but she was limping.

Rebecca switched it to the parking lot camera. Evelyn got on a black Sedan. "Did you match the license plate to anyone?"

"Yes. Take a look at this." She pulled up a record of someone on the computer.

"Well I'll be damned. Isaac McDougal."

…

**Part one over…the second part will be up soon. **

**Guess who the murderer is?**

**Please review and tell me what you think. :D**

**I'm not an expert it the whole CSI, detective shenanigans, I just have some idea from all the shows I've been watching so don't beat me up too much.**


	4. C2 part 2 Cold

**Here comes my generic Disclaimer (with a Scottish accent): Fullmetal Alchemist obviously doesn't belong to me. **

**WARNING: Some…okay most characters will be OOC (out of character), Riza for starters.**

…

"Apparently, Eliza wasn't the last one to see Evelyn alive." Roy watched the footage again. The lighting of the footage was dim but he could see her face from whatever light power the streetlamp could give. She stood tall and determined even as she limped her way towards the black car of McDougal. Determined, even as she walked right into the lion's den.

"But how the hell are we going to touch the guy when Kimblee is protecting his ass?" Rebecca leaned her elbow on the table, and rested her chin on her palm.

"Wait a sec? Kimblee? As in Zolf J. Kimblee? He's the lawyer?" Hughes exclaimed, and dropped the pictures he was so proud of for a minute. That was unsettling news to hear. "We haven't seen him for awhile, not after _that _time." Riza glanced around and felt the tense atmosphere in the room. _That one time? _She didn't understand what they meant.

"It doesn't matter whose lawyer McDougal has. If he's guilty, we'll get him." Roy paused the video; his eyes never strayed away from the face of the girl whose life ended too short. _Kimblee, if he intends to prove another guilty man innocent, I swear…_

"Mister Detective can you rewind it? When the car pulls up the parking lot." Riza instructed but he was concentrating on something else and her words fell flat to his ears. So instead, she took the liberty of moving the mouse herself and slid it while Mustang's hand was still on it. The unexpected chilled hand jolted Roy back to reality. He didn't even see her beside him.

"Disturbing, Mister Detective. Sleeping with your eyes open."

"I wasn't sleeping, Miss Hawkeye!"

Back to the video, another car pulled up beside the black Sedan. The detective continued to watch again as Evelyn got out of the car and into Walgreens. The time stamp of the video indicated that she was in there for fifteen minutes. She got out and limped her way to the car. He let the video continue, his hands clenched into a fist. The black sedan leaves first. Ten minutes later, the other car follows. He understood now, why she wanted him to look at it again. "Only she came out, no one else came out of the car." Roy muttered. He paused it. Detective Mustang could pin it all he wants on McDougal, but he'll need solid evidence that it was McDougal himself that drove the car or if he was even involved on the night of the crime.

"Its McDougal's car but is it him driving it?" Everybody watched attentively behind the pair, their eyes glued to the screen. The dark tinted windows of the car, and not to mention the dim lighting around the car made it impossible to see the driver. Alongside McDougal's car, the other car's license hid in the dark and freezing it in each frame couldn't capture even one letter of the plate. It was hard to pinpoint who the car belonged to.

"That's why we have tech geeks at our disposal." Rebecca disappeared for a second before she arrived with Kain in a loose headlock. "Kain you can do something to the video footage." Kain examined the video closely and pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes I will try. It will take me a few hours but I can do it." She slapped his back playfully, earning a small grunt from the young man.

"You have two hours Fury." Roy held up two fingers, giving his subordinate his deadline. "Oh don't insult him Mustang. He could do it in seconds." Kain laughed nervously at woman's daring confidence in him. "Don't worry, I already sent it to your computer." He excused himself.

As if he need any more, Jean Havoc entered at the scene, adding to the aggravation building up in Roy's tolerance level. _When did he return? _"Hey, boss. I hope I'm not interrupting." Havoc, a veteran member of Roy's team and an expert criminal psychologist, barged into the room, a tooth pick in his mouth. The toothpick, and the combination with his black suit was an odd mix. "McDougal came by early this morning so I questioned him. First of all, during the time of the death of Miss Evelyn, he was at a certain gathering at a neighboring bar. There were a plethora of witnesses on the night of her death that saw him. Second, he showed genuine sadness at the news of her death. As possessive and aggressive as he is, he never laid one hands on the women that worked for him."

Rebecca and the rest of the team sighed. All the blood found in the crime scene was a match to Evelyn, no one else. No murder weapon, and their only lead came to a screeching halt. The only hope they have is in the footage, the only recording of her last few hours alive. "Sorry boss. Now I've talked to the rest of the workers there and there were one other person that caught my eyes."

"The bartender." Simultaneously, the room heard both Riza's and Havoc's voice. "And who might this beautiful woman be?" All professionalism from early had evaporated as he took Riza's hand in his and kneeled below her. "Is this destiny that you and I are in the same room?" His voice lowered into a more seductive range and the team could have sworn he was starting to sparkle. Riza's face was calm, but she was confused over the strange behavior of this man. "The bartender, what's wrong with him? I didn't suspect anything from him." Rebecca pulled up the profile of Heinkel, the bartender, and the man she spoke to from yesterday, on the computer. Clean records, not even a misdemeanor or a parking ticket. All the while this is happening, Havoc was still kneeling on the floor, stuck and waiting for a response.

"Miss Hawkeye, what about him?" Roy asked impatiently. He didn't have the patience for Havoc's melodramatic act right now. Riza removed her hands from the strange, toothpick chewing man, and completely brushed off his bold pass on her. Havoc was still on a kneeling position, while his right hand was still outstretched to where her hand was and she silently looked at Rebecca, asking her what was wrong with him. "Don't mind him. He does that often, its innate and I don't think he can contain it. Anyway, Doctor, before you have aneurism, want to tell us about the bartender." A disgruntled Rebecca spoke, as she continued to type vigorously on the keyboard of the laptop. Havoc finally snapped back to reality and cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed for his abnormal reflex around women. "I apologize for my manners. Miss Hawkeye was it? What did you want to contribute before I start?"

"He smelled different from the rest of the room." She simply stated, without breaking her calm demeanor. They couldn't tell if she was kidding or not.

"How did you even smell him from where we were?"

"I thought it was obvious, Mister Detective."

"Then, I think its just you, Miss Hawkeye and as much as I'd love to believe that, the jury isn't going to take "because he smelled different", as evidence." Havoc carefully lowered his hands, placed it in his pockets, and arched one eyebrow up. _Odor? Now that she mentioned it, he had a distinct smell to him. How can I describe it? Like the beach? Did that even make sense? _"Now, now, Detective Mustang. Odor can help us well but in regards to his actions and expression, he showed nervousness when it came to Evelyn. He gulped more than a few times and his body language suggested that he has something to hide. When I kept perusing over his behavior, he became defensive, stating that the room was suffocating him. I couldn't get anymore from him but I warned him that he stay in the area. For now, we have nothing concrete on him."

"Was he in the party?" Hughes asked and Jean nodded. "From the lists of guests and workers presence, he was the only one absent during the time." Roy stood up. That's worth to check. McDougal might have gone down on his list of suspect but it doesn't mean he didn't have anything to with he murder. Heinkel works for him after all. "Excellent, Havoc. I want to talk to him personally then." _This Heinkel man might be the driver of either car. It's worth to check. _

"With that said, Miss…" Jean started, and grabbed a hold of Riza's hands. "Are you free this evening?"

"He certainly doesn't skip a beat, huh?" On the side, Rebecca whispered and Maes couldn't agree more.

"Are you paying?" She had a feeling her friend was going to ask that since Riza hasn't changed her ways when it came to free food. "Why yes of course. I am a gentleman after all."

"In that case-" Roy broke their conversation and immediately shook free her hand from Havoc's "I apologize, Doctor. Miss Hawkeye will be coming with Hughes and I. Excuse us." Roy gave him a crushing pat on the back, and dragged along the mute Riza.

"Oh cruel world. Love has escaped me once again." Rebecca sometimes wondered what goes inside this man's head. _On second thought, I really don't want to know. _ From all the years she'd known him, he never once hit on her, does that mean he doesn't see her as a woman? That revelation just pissed her more.

She threw an empty can of soda at his head. "Give it a rest you drama king and do some work!" She was getting tired of his act. "Yes, ma'am."

…

"Heinkel!" Roy knocked on the apartment door of the bartender. "NYPD." The sound of a door bolt being removed alerted him and Heinkel, a middle age, blonde haired man opened the door. He wore a frameless spectacle and donned a frown at the presence of the two detectives. His slit like eyes remained on Roy, while maintaining a passive expression. "The police? I told everything I knew to that doctor friend of yours. I have nothing else to add." Although he did try to hide it, nervousness surrounded his words, and Roy had sensed it. Heinkel remained by the door, his body blocking any entrance to his home while his right hand stayed behind the doorframe, hidden from sight. "I understand that sir, but I would like to ask more questions—" He heard a click from inside the room, a click that sounded remotely to a gun being reloaded.

"Heinkel, show me your hands!" The sound of the hammer of a gun being cocked was the last straw and Hughes kicked the door open, slamming Heinkel down on the ground. "Oh well you look at this. For you sake, this better be a water gun." _Was he going to shoot this through the door? _From the ground, Heinkel thrust his boot-clad foot on the detective's abdomen, catching him by surprise. Roy lost grip of his gun and recoiled back, quickly recovering his stance. Another fighter entered from behind, but Hughes intervened, shooting the second assailant. "Roy! One more!" The bullet only grazed him. "I'll handle this guy.

"Thanks Hughes!" Roy dodged another powerful blow. Block, kick, punch, block. _Who the hell this guy? He fights like a professional._ Heinkel saw an opening and slammed a ferocious attack on Roy's side. "Is this all you can do?" Heinkel stared at the detective with disappointment. _No choice._ However, something stopped him from directing another attack on Roy. "What are you doing Zampano?" Roy took this a chance and brought Heinkel to his knees with a hard single attack. With no time to react, Heinkel fell, and felt the cold barrel tip of a gun on his glabella. The weapon hadn't fell that far from them and Roy swiftly reacted, arming his person once again. "I don't think that is a wise decision Detective, but go ahead." Smirking, Heinkel raised both his hands, showing his defeat.

"Mister Detective." A third man appeared, seizing Riza in his iron like arms. This man, who Heinkel called Zampano, threatened to blow Riza's head off if the detectives didn't release Heinkel and their second man. _Where the hell are they come from?_ Roy noticed the apartment door from across hall was slightly ajar. " Don't worry Mister Detective. If they escape, you might loose your only lea—" Zampano placed more pressure in his grip, cutting off what little circulation she had. Roy casted his weapon down and let Heinkel free. Hughes, seeing his temporary surrender, did the same. "Gun! Kick to me!" Riza caught a whiff of her captor's scent. He smelled like the sea. _Zampano? _Zampano looked down at the woman and her face held a familiar visage in his memory.

"Easy, detectives." Heinkel and the nameless man exited the room, carrying Riza down the stairs with him. The detectives stalked them until all three got into their vehicle, while Riza was still their hostage. Roy couldn't see through the tinted glass, and then he checked the back. _This car doesn't have a license plate._ The car door finally opened. "Riza! Are you all right?" Her face was its usual placid form.

"They were nice."

"Riza, can you assess the situation you were in more like how a normal person would." He sighed in defeat. Roy looked at the streetlight and a surveillance camera was on the very top. Hughes noticed his intention and volunteered to handle it. "I'll check it out. Take Miss Riza home."

Roy flipped out his cell out and called his team to his location. He doubted the three will come back here anytime soon but just the same, they might have left something important. "Miss Hawkeye. I apologize. I placed you in this position. It was wrong for me to bring a civilian with us and—Miss Hawkeye?"

"Mama, does he have an imaginary friend, too?" The little boy asked his mother but she just dismissed. Roy rubbed the back of his head. "I'm a detective." The woman ushered his son to move forward, and faintly heard the woman lecturing her son not to talk to weirdoes like him. _Weirdo? I can arrest you lady!_ He sighed over his petty thoughts and skimmed his eyes around for the missing Riza. _Not this crap again. _"Mister Detective. Here. Come here." She was across the street in an alleyway between a laundry mat and a Chinese restaurant.

_What is she up to again?_ She patted a stray dog. "A dog?" _Great, she made me walk all the over here for a dog._ The small dog looked eager to have another person to play with and barked. It jumped. "Yes, yes, Miss Hawkeye, very cute. Now lets go." His eyes bulged out of its sockets. For some odd reason, a knife somehow found its way in her hand. "I think he wants to play fetch."

"I don't think it wants to play fetch with that!"

"He was playing with it though."

"Do you normally pick suspicious things up without thinking—" He blinked. "That knife." Now that he got a better look at the knife, its strange tip reminded him of a diamond. _Diamond shaped. Diamond? It can't be. It's nearby from Heinkel's place. He might have discarded it here. _It donned to him that it could be. The angle, the shape, its similar to the puncture wound found on Evelyn's neck. _This woman__**.**_He retrieved a small handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and hastily demanded her sudden cooperation to hand it over to him.

"Miss Hawkeye, you are holding possible evidence."

"Am I?" The dog barked along with her.

"Nice try. That's why you're holding it with your sleeves."

"It looked dirty."

"And you still picked it up!" She didn't resist anymore as she placed it on the folds of the cloth. "Thank you, Miss Hawkeye." The dog barked, as if asking for some gratitude as well. "Thank you, dog." Riza's eyes plundered back to the furry canine and picked him up. "It was him that found it. You should buy him some food."

"You mean buy you food right?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"A lucky guess. We'll go back to the lab and then I'll buy you anything you want." Somehow he regretted his words. He realized half of his paychecks are going to her food bill. For a petite woman, she sure gorges down an abundant amount of food that could fill a small country. "He helped too, don't forget."

"Yes, Miss Hawkeye. How could I forget?"

… …

Kain had done all he can with the video footage and somehow got better visibility of the driver. "That's him. Just look." The computer didn't recognize the face so there were no records in the in-board police database of the Zampano but it looked like him. "Sometimes Detective, the eyes sees what it wants to see. We must be certain." Havoc advised, calmly explaining how the mind plays tricks on you at times of stress and anxiety. "Miss Hawkeye, that looks like him right." She made a soft, flat humming sound before answering.

"Possibly." Riza said.

"I apologize sir but any further perusing might damage the quality, making it even more discernable." This must have been Kain's 6th apology. After a while, he kind of felt sorry for the kid. "It can't be helped. We'll have to send out a BOLO alert throughout the city but we don't have a clear photograph of the three, so we have to call…" Roy didn't even have to finish that sentence.

"Hey hey! You can't be calling him at a time like this. I already have a headache." Rebecca complained**. **She could feel her body turning into ice. The ringing stopped and Roy automatically pulled his phone away from his ears and out of harm's way.

"DETECTIVE MUSTANG! WHAT A PLEASURE FOR YOU TO CALL! I'VE LONGED TO HEAR YOUR VOICE EVER SINCE WE HAD PARTED OUR WAYS LAST MONTH! I AM GLAD TO BE ABLE TO AID YOU IN YOUR CASE. I WILL BE RIGHT THERE BEFORE YOU CAN SAY, ALEX LOUIS ARMSTRONG!" The call ended immediately. The whole room heard him and it wasn't even on speakerphone.

"Alex Louis Armstrong." Riza said. "He is not here."

"He was exaggerating, sweetie." Rebecca prepared her earplugs. He wasn't in the building yet and she could already hear his overly extravagant footsteps heading their way.

Havoc's body unconsciously shivered. "I don't want him shouting at me again. His stripping habit, he should do something about that. " Then, out of context, he extended his hands to Riza once again. "Miss, you still haven't answered my earlier question. Are you free this evenin—" A book whisked passed Roy's shoulder and made a direct collision with Havoc's head. It came from Rebecca's direction. "You should do something about yours first. Anyway, I'll work on that knife that was found. Saves me the trouble from another headache. Excuse me." A dark rain cloud appeared on top of Rebecca's head as she trudged her way out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Stomach ache?" Riza asked. Roy waved his hand from side to side, dismissing her inquiry.

"No, Miss Hawkeye. Definitely not a stomach ache."

An unexpected knock on the door startled the room. "DETECTIVE!" The booming voice came from the other side of the closed door. "MAY I COME IN?" He opened the door in a way that it almost flew out of its secured hinges. " Hello, it is I, Alex Louis Armstrong in the flesh. I bear the greatest style of art that has been passed on, in the Armstrong generation. I have come to aid you. Who shall I draw on this spectacular and wondrous day?" Fortunately, his voice lowered down in a dull roar. "Yes, we see you Armstrong. Can you put your shirt back on? Miss Hawkeye and I will be describing the men we want you to draw." Alex had already stationed himself on the table, placing every tools he'll need to complete his task. "Describe away, Detective. I shall not fail you."

After a few sketches later, Armstrong had drawn three perfect renditions of the three suspects, in record time. "I'll scan this into the system and send out that alert." Roy wasted no time and exited the room leaving Alex with Riza. Havoc, for some reason was MIA, even though he was in the room a second ago. Smart man.

With nothing else to do, Alex decided to engage on small talk with her. "You described those men thoroughly and with detail no less. I am impressed. You have talent for art. Here, draw me a magnificent masterpiece." He handed her a pencil. Minutes later, she revealed to him a disfigured portrait of a four-legged creature.

"Could that be a horse?"

"A dog." She answered. Alex squinted but failed to outline the figure of a dog in her drawing. "Ah, I see. Could that be a portrait of the small creature over there." He pointed over to the cage the small dog resided in. The dog occupied his time by chewing on the small gated bar that kept him from his freedom. "He was found near the housing of the suspect, Heinkel? Perhaps he was carrying out a stake out. He might have a place here in the agency." Alex jived but he meant it as a joke. Riza, on the other hand, thought of it as a revelation. She opened the cage and petted him, his black and white fur smoothly glided on her fingers. If Armstrong didn't know any better, it seemed to him that she was communicating with the silent canine. She lifted him up and plunked him down on the table. Several files pertaining to Evelyn's case was still on the table. She flipped open one of the folders containing Evelyn's pictures. The dog whined, placing one paw on her photograph.

"Did you know her?"

The dog barked

…

The day ended and all they had to do was wait. Roy had returned home. He needed some shuteye. He closed his eye and the full impact of his injuries from the fight earlier had finally decided to loom over him. He groaned, shifting onto his non-bruised side and his breathing steadied. He yawned. _I'll just close my eyes for a bit…_

Next thing he knew, a warm, bright light shined down on his face, blinding him as he groggily peeled open his tired eyes. _Bright. Sun?_ He sat up. "SUN!" He must have drifted off to sleep. He opened the door to his small living room/kitchen area.

"Good morning Detective Mustang. Can you tell me where the butter is?" Rebecca greeted, with a piece of toast muffling her mouth.

"Morning Catalina, it's there near the milk."

"Oh, so that's where it was."

He yawned, entering the bathroom. "Close the door Mister Detective."

"I'm sorry Miss Hawkeye." He closed door, but then it struck him. "What the hell are you two doing in here? This is my apartment! And how did you get in here?"

"Through the door and three you mean. The dog is here too."

He glanced over his leather couch and the dog was rolling on it. "You have made yourself feel right at home as well haven't you, dog."

"By the way, the main reason I'm here is because there were reports that Zampano was last seen in Times Square at around 6:00 a.m. No signs of Heinkel. He was last seen near the R subway station. He bought coffee in a nearby deli, paying with cash. The cashier remembered him since he was given this, a note. Specifically made out for you Detective Mustang."

He read it once, then twice, and then three more.

"An innocent has already suffered. Cease your hunting, so another would be spared." He crumpled the paper.

"Also, that knife from yesterday. It's clean. It was a perfect match to the puncture wounds but there wasn't any blood traces in the blade itself."

_It's come down to this. Another roadblock. _"Miss Hawkeye found the knife." His voice lowered.

"What are you saying? Riza is one of the good guys! I thought we passed this, Mustang." She couldn't believe that he was suspecting Riza. "I know that Catalina. I just wanted to put that in."

Riza looked at them, and the pair wasn't sure if she heard everything. "Hey Riza, look we were—" But Roy interrupted his colleague. "Miss Hawkeye, I'll be going out the field again and I can't let the events from yesterday happen again. You are unarmed and have no means to defend yourself. I can't protect you at all the times, so wait. Am I being clear?"

"Clear, Mister Detective."

"Good. Catalina." They exited the apartment but not before Roy returned shortly after.

"Miss Hawkeye, I didn't mean wait in my apartment."

…

She was contemplating on the matter. She had figured it out but she couldn't tell him. Not if she wanted to stay with them. _The umbrella_. She should have remembered _that man, _but it has been so long. Darius parked her vehicle behind the building, away from the inquisitive eyes of Detective Mustang. As she grew closer, she saw Darius, but he was outside, and he was waiting. There was a white BMW car parked beside it. He lowered his head, but not before she saw his guilt riled eyes.

"We meet face to face again, old friend." The man tipped his hat to her. She turned her, enough so that she could see him. His long black hair was tied into a neat ponytail while his immaculate crisp white suit was wrinkle free. His friendly smile looked harmless to a passing onlooker. "I do hope you remember me, old friend

"No." He laughed at her monotone respond. "As expected. It matters not. Please come with me. I wish discuss something with you." He opened the back seat of the car politely, and motioned his hand for her to enter, while keeping that cold pressed smile on his face.

"Come, old friend. Let's catch up." She boarded his vehicle. Darius followed closely behind. His mocking tone irritated her. She glanced out the window.

"Why kill Evelyn Knight?"

"Evelyn? Who is that, may I ask?" and then, there was that click. The click he didn't like hearing. "Is that her name? She saw something that she wasn't supposed to. It's unfortunate that a young life had to end but in the end, we all die anyway. Am I right?" He stopped the car. "Nothing ever gets pass you but how did you discover my involvement?" The dog on her lap growled, completely uncomfortable with the environment he was in. "You left a witness." He laughed. "What are you? Some kind of dog whisperer? It matters not."

She said nothing. "Saying anything now would just make you very suspicious. It would be quite difficult playing detective with them when that happens. That would be quite a spectacle, wouldn't you agree?" He parked in front of a tall building, the same building where the crime lab was located. Her face remained emotionless and he smirked.

"I'm glad we're at an agreement." She stepped one foot out the car. " Do me a favor, can you pick up one of my belongings for me. Your nosy friends must have found it where I had left it. I'd like to have it back."

"Kimblee." He revealed his pearly white teeth. "My regards to Detective Mustang and company. I'll make sure to tell _your_ father that you have been a very good girl." He didn't see her grimace as she got out of the car.

Darius was nearby and he purposely avoided her eyes. "I'm sorry." He opened the car door for her. "No. I'm heading inside."

…

Roy banged his head hard on the desk. His vision started to blur but he had promised Evelyn's parents that he would find her killer. He can't give up. "Mister Detective?"

"Miss Hawkeye." He lifted his head up, and searched for anything that they might have missed in the evidence. "You're back. I thought you went home."

"Do you want me to treat you to lunch?" He chuckled at her offer. "Thank you Miss Hawkeye but I'll keep on working here." He gave her a soft smile. "Really I'll be fine. Just go home. Don't waste your time here."

"It's not a waste."

"Its my job to hunt down criminals, not yours so just go home." He continued on reviewing the evidence box and the case file for anything he might have missed. He was quite stubborn and nothing she could say could change his mind.

"Very well, Mister Detective." She eyed the dark bags under his eyes and his unruly hair. He was tired but his stubbornness wont let him rest. "I'll stay and help."

"Miss Hawkeye! I told you there's no nee—"

"I'm not doing anything. I'll help."

"Miss Hawkeye."

"Mister Detective." He stared at her usual unfazed hazel eyes. Unfortunately, she was just as stubborn as he is. He sighed in defeat.

"Fine. If that's what you want to do. Thank you."

The next morning had arrived and lady luck was a no show since they found nothing. Roy yawned and shifted to his side and stretched. He scanned the room for any signs of Riza but she was nowhere in sight. "Miss Hawkeye?"

His muscles protested but he found some strength and lifted himself off of the couch. "Coffee?" His heart jumped out of its place. She innocently rested his hot mug on the table. "Thank you Miss Hawkeye."

"Mister Detective." He greedily sipped the warm drink. For some reason, Riza knows just what to put in his coffee. "You are my friend." He blinked twice. Her statement confused him.

"Oh I see. Fine Miss Hawkeye. I'll treat you to breakfast."

"Will you?" The detective grinned. There was no need to be suspicious of her.

"Sure why not."

…

"What! Why Chief? We'll find something."

Days had soon turned into weeks. Grumman had arrived early one day in the lab to deliver news he didn't wish to discuss to Roy and his team. Normally he wouldn't do this but his people's efforts are being wasted on some matter that will never be solved.

The team shifted their attention to the older man in front of the room. "I'm not closing the case Detective, but this case has turned cold. I'm just telling to focus your attention elsewhere. It will be re-opened when further discover has been made."

The room remained silent even as Chief Grumman left.

"This leaves a bad taste in my mouth!" Rebecca broke the quietness and closed the folder she was reading. She watched Roy's still figure. She has been working with him for as long as she can remember and she knew he wouldn't defy any orders.

"You heard what the chief said. We'll have to pack everything up. Catalina, you, Fury and Havoc do that. Hughes and I will inform the parents that their daughter's investigation is pending." Roy ignored the questioning eyes his fellow workers as he slid his suit jacket on and made his way out the door. Hughes silently followed.

Rebecca moaned tiredly. The three started to pack everything in its respective boxes. She had already labeled each bag to is corresponding evidence container to make packing faster. She reviewed the list she made on one of the boxes three times. This box contained the victim's belongings. There was ten items in this specific box but now there are nine. She wrote this so she remembered.

"Hey Kain, does any of those boxes have an umbrella in it? Its black, small, and you know, it looks like an umbrella." She might have just misplaced it and placed it in another box.

He searched but to avail, there was none. She glared at the paper in her hand. The umbrella was marked as number four in the list but its as if it was never written in the paper at all. She looked at the left corner of the paper, and the star she always drew on any list she made was there. "Weird." _No, it was here. Am I loosing my mind?_

"It'll turn up." Jean patted her shoulder.

"Yeah I guess." Losing stuff, especially evidence isn't a daily occurrence here. To be safe, she'll check the security cameras later, to see if anyone had been rummaging around here. "I guess you're right."

…

Kimblee slowly drank his tea. Sitting outside this gorgeous, breezy, and peaceful day, he can't help but feel that there was something missing in the picture. A car pulled up nearby and for a while no one came out. Then, the door open and the person he was expecting approached him. "Ah, we meet again." Elated by her presence, he offered her the adjacent seat, hoping she would join him for breakfast.

Her silence, it pleased him.

Riza curtly threw a bag on the table and it almost tipped the plate of breakfast he was eating. "Thank you. This has been a pleasant meeting."

…

**Finished with this chapter!  
**

**Next will be up, The Forger. **

**Don't be afraid to review and tell me what you think XD**


	5. C3 part 1 The Forger

**Here comes my generic Disclaimer (with a Scottish accent): Fullmetal Alchemist obviously doesn't belong to me. WARNING: Some…okay most characters will be OOC (out of character), Riza for starters.**

**BTW, thank you for all the reviews :)  
**

…

"Nothing is going to ruin my Christmas! Not work and certainly not dead people!" Rebecca shouted, not minding at all, the strange stares she was getting from everyone around. It was bad enough that Thanksgiving was a total bust for her. (She had spent it with Mustang and company and not to mention, Miss Jane Doe.) She wasn't able attend her niece's birthday a week ago, and to top it off her pet goldfish died. (and yes before you ask, she couldn't even attend her own goldfish's funeral.) Work is getting hectic and she wondered how she hasn't gone postal on anyone. She needed this Christmas Party to go off without a hitch. "Why are people getting killed so much?" She slumped down on a marble bench and rested her shopping bags in front of her. She eyed her friend beside her, who was snacking, without a care in the world, on a caramel apple. The caramel was extra thick.

"I hate you, Riza. Do you know how many calories that thing has?"

"But it tastes good."

"I'm sure it does. All right up and at 'em. We can't miss the event. They're going to unravel that huge present box that has been on display all this month down at the mall lobby. Come on! I want to see what's inside." They got there but there was already a huge crowd around the circular platform that displayed the colorful box. The size was extravagant enough, but the big red bow on top just added to the merry atmosphere of the surroundings. "I can't see a thing!" Riza nudged her side and pointed up the second level.

"Great idea. I knew you were the brains between us. After all, I'm just the pretty face." There weren't many people up there and it wasn't close but beggars can't be choosers. They hurried upstairs before the announcer man unveiled their display. After minutes of build-up, Rebecca was starting to get impatient. "C'mon you clown, just show it!" She gritted her teeth.

Then, it opened.

It was quiet at first and the audience didn't know if this was part of the big reveal but then someone screamed. Someone fainted and soon a domino effect rippled in the people. Loud screams erupted in the lobby as parents rushed their kids out of the place. There was a stampede of people and there were also other people who were just too stupefied to move because of the sight before them.

Riza finished the last bite of her sweet treat. She wanted more. Rebecca stood there, dumbfounded. _No! This can't be happening! I didn't see it! I didn't see it! _

"Becca."

"Yes, Riza?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Riza."

"Yes, Becca?"

"Shut up."

…

Roy whistled. _Now that is something. _Inside the box was a single white chair and on it was, yes you guessed it, a body. It was wrapped in a blue and white gift-wrapping paper. There was a translucent bow on top of its wrapped head. Where the mouth should be was one of those stickers you would usually use in presents, with the To: and From: labels already written in it. "From: Me To: You." Roy read. _Joy, an early Christmas present. How thoughtful. _ He sensed the dark clouds on the person who was taking crime photos of the gift-wrapped body. "Catalina, I'm sorry if you had plans but now everyone's plans are canceled."

"Its fine detective. It's not this guy's fault he died, although he could've waited for a bit." She muttered the last bit in a whisper. She was about to take another picture when Riza got in a way of her view. "Riza, your ass is great and everything but can you move?" Riza tilted her head to the right, then, to the left. "There's room inside, Mister Detective." She approached the box.

"That's nice, Miss Hawkeye…wait what are you doing?" She squeezed herself inside the small corner space beside the chair. It looked like she was reaching for something. "Miss Hawkeye, get out of there!" He tugged her arm but she wouldn't come out. He pulled one more time and just like that, she popped back outside, holding a small surprise.

"Mister Detective, look. Exhibit A." She spoke in a mocked professional manner. She held out a medium sized brown carton box. The Staff turned their attention on the box and then to the blonde woman, who had already infamously made herself known to everyone in the lab. "Miss Hawkeye, are you insane! What if there's a bomb inside? Don't move anymore." Before he could radio in the bomb squad, she rattled it, like a nosy child who couldn't wait to open her gifts up. He felt his heart stop. "It's pretty light for a bomb. Here" She was giving it to him. "I swear, Miss Hawkeye." Mustang gladly confiscated it from her and went ahead and unsealed it.

On the center, was a lone rectangle shaped paper, which was folded one time horizontally. He lifted it up with tweezers and opened it with gloved hands. "Huh." He murmured. "Huh." Riza looked over his shoulder. He mouthed the foreign language written on the paper. "Falsario…" Roy remembered that term from a few years back. Back when he was still…

"_Il falsario. Ti ho fatto un favore." _ She read out loud.

"You understand what this means, Miss Hawkeye?" He asked but he sounded distracted.

"The Forger. I did you a favor, is what it says, Mister Detective." He gave it to one of the CSI staff and it was then sealed in an evidence bag for further analysis.

"What an interesting little note." Rebecca added. "The Forger? Isn't that that painter/counterfeiter/killer from a long way back?" She got no reply. "Sure, I was only talking to myself."

"I heard about it on the news. He was never caught." Fury squeaked out. "Were you and the Detective involved with that case?" She snickered, and she covered her mouth with a hand to keep from breaking into a full on laughter. "Oh yeah, the Detective was involved all right." Whatever the joke was, it flew right over Riza and Kain's head.

"Finish up here and we'll discuss everything back at the lab." Mustang ordered and swiftly left the scene. "Well Riza, I still got work to do…Riza?" Despite her usual blank, expressionless face, Riza looked worried for once.

"Oh don't worry about him."

"I'm not. Just hungry." And truth be told, Detective Mustang was far from her mind. It was message that left her more…perturbed. Riza shook her head and pushed it back in the closets of her mind. She buttoned up her black pea coat and was prepared to leave but Rebecca stopped her. "Hey, if there was something going on, with you I mean, you'd tell me right?" The question caught Riza off guard. Without a single thought about what she was going to say, Riza simply said, "Yes, Becca, of course I would." This seemed to placate Rebecca and returned back to her duties.

Riza got in an elevator and Darius was already inside, waiting for her. The elevator door closed. "Kimblee seemed to have left the States and departed home. He won't be back for awhile." He informed her. "A piece is gone, Miss. Blaise Bergeron, they disposed of him." He growled. "You're becoming far too close to this detective friend of yours. If you think I can turn a blind eye about this, then you are—" She raised her hands, which quelled down his sudden outburst. He bowed his head. "I have spoken out of place, my deepest apologies." The elevator reached the ground level.

"No, this is right, DK"

…

Jean and Rebecca peeked through the clear glass of Mustang's office from across the hall. "Who is he calling?" Rebecca wore a big clown like smile on her face. _With what happened yesterday, he's going call her now._ "Oh look at him sweat. Come, you ass, think! Who can make him sweat like that? This case might be the best one yet." He thought about it and the more he thought about, the more he didn't want to think about what he thought about because thinking about it scared him. "No! Not her! Didn't we fulfill our Armstrong quota from the last case?" For once, she was excited about a case. "Yes! This is great." They noticed Mustang walking towards them, donning a weary expression on his face. He sighed tiredly. "So, what's going on? She's coming right? Because The Forger's name turned up again?" Catalina's words were spoken like she was on a sugar rush. He nodded a yes to answer her question.

"Mira will be here tomorrow."

"So our breaks done?" They turned their attention to the evidence table. The note was at the center of the table, in a bag, protected from the elements "I did you a favor, it says. It could be interpreted as a type of warning or by someone who truly believed that murdering this certain individual could only benefit this, Forger character." Havoc said. She nodded. That made sense. An intern handed her two folders. "Thank you." She flipped to the next page. "Hmmm. So our victim is Matthew Moretti. Age, 22. He was here on a student visa from Italy. He's somehow related to The Forger." Jean took the other folder and raised a brow.

"He's blue."

"Oh? Is he an Avatar?" He didn't know how to respond to that. "No, Catalina. According to Falman's report, he was exposed to extreme frigid conditions. He died from severe hypothermia." Rebecca pursed her lips. "Torture, perhaps?" She shivered at Jean's suggestion. "Great, more sociopaths. I love this job." She changed her mind. This is definitely not the best case ever. Roy looked over the reports. "It says here that he has a flat down in Midtown. I'll head over there. Keep me updated." Roy grabbed his coat and headed for the door. When he turned the knob, someone was blocking his way.

"Hello, Miss Hawkeye."

"Are we ready to go?" A dog obediently stood by her, wagging his tail. "Miss Hawkeye, you're not coming with me." She stalked after him.

"You need backup. Detective Hughes isn't here."

"I can handle myself, if not, an official police officer will assist me instead."

"But I'm your bodyguard."

"Miss Hawkeye, you are not coming with me!" Next thing you know, they were already in his car with an officer, Heymans Breda, seated at the back. "Hello, sir." Riza's nanny, as she liked to call him, situated himself in the back seat as well. "Detective, I do not think you and I have been properly introduced. I am Darius and I am at your beck and call." Roy eyed the side mustaches of this Darius person. _Impressive... Mustang this isn't the time to be impressed. _How does this always happen to him? "See Mister Detective. We'll protect you." He was receiving unsolicited help…again. He drove off and it was a quiet and awkward ride, but they finally reached Moretti's apartment.

Roy questioned the landlord about the living conditions of the victim. "Moretti? Oh the kid's a quiet fellow. Always paid his rent with cash. I think he's some sort of art student from abroad." The landlord led the group upstairs to the apartment.

"Here's his place" He opened the door with his set of keys. There were shredded paintings scattered throughout the entire place. The windows were covered with monthly old newspaper and the only furniture in the room, beside the desk, was a white loveseat. "What the hell is this?" The landlord exclaimed. They walked around the broken canvases. "Search the place." Mustang ordered. Roy wanted to get to the computer that was on the desk. He turned the power on but a password-encrypted screen greeted him. "Great. Let's try The Forger?" It was incorrect. _Guess that was too obvious. _A hint popped up at the bottom of the text box.

"_What ends everything always."_ It read. He saws this before. It was just a simple riddle, just worded in a very confusing manner. He typed in the answer. "Okay, we're in." He looked around the desktop and clicked on the only icon on it. Internet explorer. The home page was a blog site, titled "My Return." He skimmed the page, reviewing the various posts and rambling of the late Matthew Moretti. It was mostly nonsense and he couldn't imagine anyone would want to read these insane writings . "Who is this Forger person, Mister Detective?" Riza suddenly blurted out curiously.

"I'm not sure. He started out as a well-known painter a decade ago in Italy. He signed his paintings, with the signature, Il Falsario. Then, for some reason he changed his profession to a high-profile criminal, making counterfeits of notes and the like and then, to a murderer. I was only a lowly grunt working for the police back then, but he brought a couple of murders, in his name, here in New York that messed up the city. He always managed to evade the officials. The lead investigator working on The Forger is flying from Italy, so she'll be here." He was nervous again. "She can provide more information about him." He returned to the computer and noticed the blog entries for each had no comments on the bottom except for the last two entries.

On November 23nd, the commenter asked, "_What is the greatest gift one can give?"_

"Twizzlers." Riza said. He ignored her. Moretti never replied but he wrote another entry the next day. It was more incoherent babble but there was another comment at the bottom. "_Liar!" _It proclaimed. "_If you cannot answer, then you are not him. Io verrò per voi." _After that, there were no more entries made from Moretti. "If you cannot answer? Is it a passphrase or something? What does the last part mean?" He asked his personal translator. "I will come for you or something like that." It sounded like threat. "Then, whoever this was, he was true to his word." His cellphone vibrated in his pocket. "Mustang."

While the Detective was distracted with his call, Darius pulled Riza aside. "Miss." He spoke in a hush voice. He was carrying the dog in his arms. "Yes?" He looked embarrassed.

"The dog needs to pee." He whispered.

"Is that code for something?"

"No, it means, the dog needs to pee."

"Then, take him out, DK and buy me some food." He bowed his head. "Yes, of course." And left.

"You're pretty bossy to him, Miss Hawkeye." Roy had heard the last bit of their conversation. "He's my nanny." She announced. "Yes, you've told me plenty of times. Anyway, go back to the lab. There's something Rebecca needs you for." She blinked. "She asked for me, specifically?" He replied with a yes. "Yes, so go and find out what Catalina wants."

…

The lights of the room were closed. She flipped the switch. On the table, there was an object that wasn't there before that attracted her hazel eyes. "Turn it off! Huh? Oh, hey Riza." Apparently, Rebecca was taking a short snooze before she came in. She stifled a yawn. "Good thing you're here. Look what Falman found inside the vic's stomach. How sick is this? The murderer went to all that trouble to insert this in, after Moretti's death. Get some gloves."

It was a Rubik's Cube. "Could I eat that?"

"Did you not hear the part where I said it was in the vic's stomach? I've been trying to solve this, damned thing. Havoc tried, but he's an idiot too. I googled solutions but that was a bust. It wasn't working. You solved one before so I figured you could do it! It's literally killing me!" She threw it over to her. "It's peculiar though. Some of the cube pieces have a red x covering it, but no matter. Just do it!" Riza twisted it and turned it until a minute later, it was solved. "How you do that?" Unexpectedly, a click was heard. It came from the cube. Rebecca shrieked loudly. Something was unlocking inside of it. The superior portion of the cube, where the yellow area was, separated, creating a small slit in the middle. A piece of paper protruded from the thin opening. "Wow." Havoc and Fury barged in the room with panicked faces. "You girls all right? I heard Catalina and…whoa. You solved it." When the paper was taken out, the cube closed.

"What does it say, Riza?"

The handwriting seemed alike from the other note. "I hope its in English."

"_I salute you. Now our play begins. Go forth, to where the lone lady stands, waiting, expecting, and watching, for faraway faces. Tick Tock" _

"A game? I love games." Rebecca chirped. "The murder is clearly toying with us with this debasing riddle. Notify the Detective and tell him to meet us at the Statue of Liberty." Jean said with such confidence, but they were talking over him, muffling him in the background. "A lone lady, huh? It could be the Lady Liberty since she does wait for foreigners, which must be the "faraway faces" in the message." Rebecca took the cube from Riza's grasp and placed it securely in its box. This time, all evidence will be handled with double the extra care, to prevent from anyone meddling in it. "That makes sense, Miss Rebecca. We should hurry and inform Detective Mustang." Kain suggested.

"Am I no longer visible?" Jean felt his life ebbing away. He was completely ignored. "Did you say something, Doctor? At any rate, there's no way I am going to miss this. Kain, handle the fort while Riza and I take care of this." Kain watched as both women cleared out the room. Then, he shifted his eyes towards the bewildered Jean Havoc. "You should do some work too, sir." Kain closed shut the door behind him, leaving Jean by himself.

…

"Whew, thank god, we caught the last ferry to the island. You took your time, didn't you Detective!" Roy was catching his breath. When he got a call from a certain brunette woman to meet Riza and her at Battery Park because there was an emergency pertaining to the case, he drove and ran here as fast as he could, without questions.

"Catalina, you didn't explain!"

"That's because you hung up before I could, Detective…you look a little green Riza." Riza's face paled and she hugged her stomach. Something in her stomach wasn't agreeing with her. She moaned painfully. Mustang cupped the side of her head and nestled her on his lap. If his action surprised her, Riza made no comment about it. Rebecca said nothing too about the Detective's surprising and thoughtful action as she began to summarize what had happened. "Another note…let see here. Tick tock? The last part is a bit daunting. So I guess we're going to play his game? Boy, this guy is in for a surprise." They soon arrived at the Liberty Island dock. There was a plethora amount of people at the island, taking and posing for pictures. _Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. _Riza groaned on his back. In fact, they might be the most conspicuous ones, with his over-dressed suit and Rebecca's CSI jacket.

"What could we be looking for?" They scouted the area. Roy grilled the island's security guards if they saw anything out of the ordinary and to no avail; everything seemed to be the usual, peaceful day. "Tick Tock." Riza muttered under her breath. "What was that Miss Hawkeye?" She repeated, "Tick Tock." Nearby, there was a red street light clock at the center of the picnic area. People ate and mingled, crowding around the tall clock.

"That clock, Miss Hawkeye?" Rebecca ran over to the clock. There was a flower bush around that covered the feet of the clock.

"Wait a minute, are you feeling better now?"

"Yes."

"Why am I still carrying you then?"

"I didn't want to be a bother." She climbed down from his back. "You're not exactly light, Miss Hawkeye." He wished he didn't say that. He remembered that women were bit sensitive when it came to their weight. "I'm not? I just ate." He should've expected that reaction. "Is that so?"

"Hey you two!" Rebecca called out to them. "Well there's nothing…oh maybe in the dirt." She brandished out her pair of emergency gloves and started digging. To avoid anymore-funny looks from the onlookers, Roy flashed his badge out. "Police business. Don't mind us." Rebecca dug around until she tapped on something. It was a brown carton box, big enough for an object, like a cell phone for example.

"A prepaid phone?" There was a mini post-it stuck on the phone's front. "_Pick me up," _was written. "That's obnoxious."

Then, it rang.

"You are speaking to, Detective Roy Mustang of the New York Crime Lab. You have my utmost attention." Roy strained to hear the other person's voice. "Indeed I have." The man cackled. "I am so pleased that…I have it." He was laughing crazily.

He spoke slowly. "I will call again. Then we can resume our play."

"Hey!" But it was too late, the frenzied man hung up.

…

**Chapter end. I hope it wasn't disappointing. My Italian is probably not that accurate since I got it from a translator but it was part of my idea so if you know Italian, correct me please. ;)**

**Don't be afraid to review and tell me what you think XD**

**C3 pt2: Nothing**


End file.
